Chiron's Worst Fear
by Dancingvictoria
Summary: Set in between Mark of Athena and House of Hades. May be a story or a two shot.


It had been so long since I had last seen them. Weeks ago, the campers held a ceremony to honor them, to honor Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. Percy had gone missing nearly a year ago, but when news came back from Annabeth that they had finally found him, I was hopeful. I prayed that perhaps, for once, a hero that I'd trained would survive. However, the prophecy of the seven was coming true. I knew this when I saw Jason in that familiar purple shirt, and I realized that it would take an even longer time to see Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase again.

It has been strange without Dionysus to keep me company. He and I would always talk about changes that needed to be done in camp. We talked about the campers, and even though he put on a front that he hated every single camper at Camp Half-Blood, he actually loved them dearly. Dionysus especially loved Percy, and that was why he would always 'mess up' his name. Since Olympus has been closed, the Big House has felt empty. I try to stay out as long as I can and prepare the children for the oncoming war. The Romans were coming again, and they were coming with the vengeance of the gods. The children are not ready and I am terrified to see the outcome of how this war will turn out.

On one particular day, I woke up with a start. Even as a centaur, I had the nightmares that are equivalent to only demigods. I was in Rome, floating above an underground crevice. It was dark and there was a darkened pit that gave off the feeling of utter sadness and evil. That must've been Tartarus. I realized that the crevice was actually a room—it must've been millennia old. On the walls were portraits—_weavings—_that covered the walls like tiles. The weavings were the best I'd ever seen and I took a moment to look at them. Oh, they were absolutely fantastic! I kept looking around the room when I came to a stop. One of the weavings looked familiar—a small blonde girl in an orange tee-shirt was looking at me with a worried expression. She seemed to be telling me to leave. But that was impossible! This was a portrait—a weaving! It was just a portrait in a dream, so I kept walking around the room, but the image of the blonde girl stuck with me. Why did she look so familiar?

As I kept walking, the portraits seemed to become even more urgent. A black haired young man was holding the blonde from the first portrait. He was filthy and wounded, with scars all over his face and arms. The details were so intricate that I could even tell what color the boy's eyes were. They were startlingly green, like the ocean. And, _by the gods!_—it was Percy!

I kept walking. The next portrait showed Percy was holding Annabeth from behind. Annabeth was limping. She had a wooden plank on her swollen, broken ankle. Instinct told me to help them, but logic told me that this was only a dream and that I was helpless. This had already happened. I was helpless while I watched Annabeth fall onto the ground, her woven face showed absolute horror. I could do nothing when I saw the fear in Percy's face when Annabeth fell into the hole, gripping onto the ledge. I stood in front of a portrait of a blond boy, Jason it must've been, and Leo in his typical overalls, as we watched in horror as they both fell into the pit.

I woke up with a jump. My rear end backed nervously and within seconds, I was shaking uncontrollably with tears streaming down my face. This was so wrong. Everything that I had just dreamed had actually happened at one specific point in time and they had happened periodically. Percy and Annabeth were in Tartarus—the weavings had showed me a picture of them tumbling down to the pit with their bodies intertwined. Annabeth's face looked clammy, even in the portrait. Percy's eyes were closed and his mouth was open slightly, probably in prayer. As worried as I was, I had to do something. I was furious with the gods.

I wiped away the tears with a shaky hand and walked out to the porch of the Big House. The sun was just starting to rise over the lake. It was still dark overhead, with the crescent moon lining up with Saturn on the side opposite of the lake. The constellations were just starting to dim with the rising of the sun.

Lately, I had been stargazing at night. It was an old tradition that centaurs did in ancient times—we would read the stars and make predictions of the future. For so long - as long as I had been training heroes at least, I had forgotten the old ways. I had solely been focused on training the children. After Dionysus left, however, the stars seemed to be telling me something. I would wake up in the middle of the night with a small notion that I should go outside. And so I did. Right now, from what I could understand, the stars were telling me "Keep your Guard Up". I was to be as alert as possible and continue anticipating an attack and an arrival of the lost ones. I was not quite sure what the last part meant, though I was completely sure that the attack would be from the Roman camp.

I stood on the porch until the sky was lit by the sun and the birds and harpies would start chirping. I could hear the early morning snores coming from the Ares and Hypnos cabin from down the hill. In the lake, the naiads were just starting to wake up by making small fountains of water erupt.

Mornings at Camp Half-Blood are my favorite part of camp because at sunrise, it seems as if nothing is wrong in the world. Camp Half-Blood is an actual summer camp, with teenagers that have regular parents. Everything is always normal until the sun has fully risen and the children get out of bed. The children get dressed and I could already hear shouting from the Hermes and Demeter cabins and the Apollo and Ares cabins. The children have their parent's ability to argue, that is for sure.

With a sigh, I walked back into the Big House and put on whatever tee-shirt and my crossbow kit onto my back. I could find and trot down to the pavilion. By the time I stepped over the deep crack in the floor, I realized that something is terribly wrong. The air was thick with anticipation, as if Hemera, the goddess of daylight, and Aether were trying to warn me of something coming.

It was then that I heard the eagles.


End file.
